The King in the Coffin
by OkieDokieLoki
Summary: The Gravedigger is about to go on trial, and be out of their lives forever. Then they get a phone call. How she does it, they don't know, but this case is starting to hit far too close to home. When Dr. Zach Addy wakes up, he realizes that his logic is starting to fail him. And time is running out faster than any of them have figured out. Alternate version of the Gravedigger trial.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello Bones community. I have been writing for this site for a while, but this is the first story I have ever published for this fandom. I only recently got into Bones, and binge-watched nine season starting in June. That said, I have only gotten to the Recluse in the Recliner, so no spoilers after that point, if that is alright with you. **

**This story is what I imagined could have happened at the Gravedigger trial, which I am pretty sure was season five or four. This is AU to that episode, but if I am not incorrect, fits in with the series otherwise. I own nothing. Reviews are great and wonderful things. Thank you for reading.**

**-OkieDokieLoki **

There was a faint tap on the door. She looked up to see Cam poking her head through the doorway.

"Dr. Brennan? Have you been here all night?" her boss said, frowning.

"Yes, I have," she said, before turning back to her desktop, only to remember she had deleted her work in progress.

"You should be at home, the trial is starting tomorrow – today," she corrected, "In the morning."

"I will be prepared," Temperance said flatly.

"Okay then," Cam was not in the mood, or position to argue given the fact that she had spent the whole night up as well, "We're all convening at seven at the courthouse with Caroline. Don't be late."

Temperance nodded and turned back on to her computer screen, just long enough for her to hear Dr. Saroyan's footsteps fade out. Then she turned back to the door and stood up, her legs forcing her slider chair back a couple of inches. She was tired, but every time she closed her eyes she felt like she was back. Trapped under layers of gravel and sediments, paralyzed and shaking where no one would ever find her. Her cup of coffee was cold, but she put it to her lips anyways and took a long sip. It was terrible coffee really, and had been even before it went cold. Skirting around her desk, and careful not to knock over any of the boxes of remains pressed against the walls, she slipped her bag over her shoulder. Stepping out into the hallways, she saw the light in Cam's office was still on. She absently reached her hand back into her office to turn off the light. But instead it skimmed over a skull from the seventeenth century, which caused her to stiffen.

"This is getting ridiculous," she muttered to herself and headed out the doors of the lab. Sliding back into her car she hit the road. It was just about to be rush hour, but for now the streets were clear. The stars, in all their hydrogen, nitrogen and helium glory barely peeked through the clouds. They were gray, and dull. And thick. The road seemed to spread on forever based on the small portion of visibility given to her by her headlights.

…...

Booth stared at his alarm clock with utter distain. The curved numbers barely could show past the mounds of pillows he had stacked up to keep himself from staring at the clock. He rolled over onto his chest and groaned. It was five thirty and he, foolishly, hadn't set his alarm to go off for another fifteen minutes. Like he would be asleep period. He forced himself into an upright position and slides out of bed, literally slides hitting the floor with a thud. Groaning, he pulls himself up and stumbles in an exhausted trance over to his closet.

His phone rings, he sends it a death glare before answering.

"Booth. Who is this?"

"Doesn't your phone have caller I.D., Booth?" came the confused, yet skeptical response.

"Bones?" he mutters.

"Yes, I wanted to remind you that we are all meeting at seven at the courthouse," she said, officially. That at least stirs something out of his sleep deprived-coffee deprived mind.

"I didn't sleep at all either."

"I never said-"

"It's five thirty in the morning, Bones."

"Right, and you're assuming since I normally awake at a later hour that my calling before said hour is an indicator that I didn't sleep well last night. Very good, Booth. Especially for someone who didn't get much sleep."

"Thanks Bones. I'm going to hang up now."

"You don't have to warn m-" Brennan frowned as she heard the click of a button, "-e"

Booth tossed his phone down onto his bed and haphazardly pulled on his standard suit and tie. He could hear Caroline's voice telling him to lose the cocky belt buckle, which gave him that much more satisfaction when he strapped it on.

"Just a regular trial," he told himself. But he was lying.

….

"What's the matter Lancelot?" Daisy asked, as she tried to fix his tie.

"It's just, this trial," Sweets sighed, he looked at his girlfriend, who was focused deeply on forming the perfect knot. "If I – if we mess up this, the Gravedigger walks free. And the things she does to people, I couldn't deal with that happening to more people because of me."

"Lancelot," Daisy abandoned his tie leaving it hanging loosely around his neck. "You shouldn't worry. Dr. Brennan, Agent Booth, Dr. Saroyan, Dr. Hodgins, Angela, you – you're all really smart people. If anyone can catch the bad guys, you can," she smiled, and offered the knot one last try. She pulled it a little too tight to be comfortable, but Sweets only forced a smile.

"Okay, I guess if you think so-"

"And I'm incredibly intelligent," she added with a serious expression.

"Right so," he tried.

"You have nothing to worry about. Good luck," she said, and smiled as she picked up her bag and walked out of his door. He forced a wave at her retreating back. He reached into his pocket and frowned, sifting through the spindles of string coming off the interior. He sighed and took a few glances around to see where his phone was before leaving empty handed.

….

Hodgins was early. It was only six forty five, but he was sitting outside the courthouse completely dressed. It was a cool morning, with sharp gusts of wind that sent his coattails waving side to side. This caused an offset of balance on his shoulders and he strongly disliked it. He leaned against the stone pillar, but this hardly helped. He saw a cab pull up in front. He tried to convince himself that the horrible feeling of being trapped wasn't going to get to him after today. But he felt every time he saw an automobile and was the only person there he was about to be buried from which he wouldn't be dug up for quite some time. To his good fortune, Angela exited the cab and walked up the long steps in front of the courthouse. She saw him and smiled nervously.

"So," she said, her voice falling before the vowel sound even came out fully.

"So," he repeated. She sent him another one of those nervous smiles before turning to face the streets. He tried to think of something to say, but just ended up sighing. Angela nodded, despite his silence and waved to a passing cab. Booth stepped out and hurried up the steps.

"Am I late?" he asked.

"No, we're early, interesting fashion statement," Angela said, grinning slightly. Booth glanced down and found that he had a navy tie on with his black suit. He groaned and ran his fingers through his hair.

"Where is Bones?" he asked, glancing around.

"Not here yet. Sorry, you're just stuck with us," Angela said, smiling for a moment and glancing at her new husband before letting the light moment die in the air. Another cab pulled up in front of the courthouse, and all three of them jumped at the sight. Lance Sweets hurried out and practically bounded up the stairs like a small child would. Despite his serious expression, Hodgins could add merit to Booth's statements that he did look like a child.

"I'm late, aren't I?" he said, sighing.

"Nope," Angela said, "We're all early today. Brennan too," she gestured to one of the cars dotting the road, from which the forensic anthropologist was leaving. When the scientist reached the top of the many steps, she didn't ask if she was late – like everyone before her. She simply forced a brave smile before glancing around.

"Where's Cam and Caroline?" she frowned, "We have only five minutes until seven-thirty – and it is a necessity for a host of a meeting to be there at least fifteen minutes before said meeting begins. Since Caroline called this meeting, she's technically late."

"I'm here Cherrie, no need to go along with your anthropological jibber-jabber," the attorney said from behind them. Everyone jumped and spun around, to which Caroline frowned, "Why are you all so jumpy today?"

"I don't know what jibber-jabber means," Brennan said confused.

"It means when you talk about your social requirements and other technicalities," Cam said catching her breath as she climbed up the last of the stairs. At that moment, when Brennan was about to respond their empty conversation was interrupted with music. The _Star Wars_ theme song, to be most specific. Hodgins glanced at everyone, who was now staring at him and pulled out his phone.

"That's mine,"

Hodgins sighed and took a few steps away from the group to take the call. While he was over behind a set of pillars, Caroline turned to the FBI agents and the squints.

"Now, just a few matters to discuss before the trial. First, I want you all to use simple words that normal people can understand, except for you," she turned to Sweets, "Use all your grown up words – we're trying to sell you as an expert witness. Secondly, eat something before the trial last time the sound of Miss Montenegro opening her candy wrappers distracted even the judge."

Angela crossed her arms, "Those were mints, and they were not that distracting."

"I don't care what they were don't distract the judge and jury," she paused and looked over to see Hodgins the cell phone still clutched to his face, despite being clearly off and with an expression that was a combination of horror, guilt and fury.

"Jack, what is it?" Angela asked,

The entomologist could only hit a play button, and stare at the group. The voice was low and clearly done by a computer.

"Jack Hodgins. This is the Gravedigger and I have taken possession of a certain Doctor Zach Addy, if you wish to find him alive you and your companions shall not attend the trial of Ms. Heather Taffet. At the end of this trial you will receive a contact with his coordinates. This is the last communication we will be making." Followed by the fatal beep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Apologies for the late update. This chapter gets a touch more into the plot. I would love to know what you guys are thinking about this story, as it is difficult to write with all the complex characters. Hart Hanson owns Bones, and I am not Hart Hanson. If I was, Zach never would have been written off. **

**If you like my story, and are interested in more suspense and Zach-love, I would check out The Enigma in the Excavation by HisNameIsPeter. Thak you, and happy reading.**

**-OkieDokieLoki**

There was a moment of silence as they all stood there. The first person to move was Angela, who covered her mouth with her hand and swallowed. Hodgins simply nodded.

"Oh my God, what do we do?" Cam asked softly, glancing at her team as if they all were glass that was about to break. Brennan had managed to close her gaping jaw, but still was in disbelief. Booth wrapped his arm around her shoulder, but she shoved him off. He shot her a hurt look before glancing and shaking he head at Sweets, who had a contemplating expression.

"No, no shrink-y stuff right now!" he snapped. Sweets shook his head.

"No, that isn't it. I just – I saw him yesterday."

"I haven't seen him in a while," Hodgins said and glanced away and sighed.

"If I may interrupt," Caroline said, interrupting before they could respond, "You need to get to your lab and start doing whatever it is you do to solve crimes. I'll talk to the judge and postpone the trial. Got it cher?"

"Right, Bones and I will go to the crime scene and talk to the doctors – Sweets can come," Booth said, warily looking at the psychologist who nodded eagerly. "Cam and the squints can head back to the lab and sort through all the science voodoo we bring back. Sound alright?"

"Yeah," Angela said numbly and looked at Hodgins before supportively looping her arm over her new husband. "Hodgins and I are going to get a cab, don't wait up."

Brennan and Booth walked down the many steps, Sweets following behind them forming a near perfect triangle. They climbed into the car and sped off to the Hanson Mental Institute.

…...

When Zack Addy opened his eyes, breaking the film that had settled over them after keeping them closed for such a long time, he was only greeted with darkness. He felt something hard against the back of his neck, and an ache that spread over his entire body. He sat up, but only managed to raise his head a few inches before its inevitable hit against wood.

He tried to roll over, but only succeeded in hitting yet another wall of wood. Where was he? He could have sworn only moments ago he was back in the discomfort of his cell, or room so to speak, at Hanson. And now he clearly wasn't. He closed his eyes, not that it mattered considering the extreme lack of light and created a mental timeline. And it all came back to him slowly.

_He was in his room, and had just left, or more accurately escaped another psychological conversation with some idiot who called himself Doctor Jefferson. Said doctor had decided that he was depressed and ignored how all facts pointed otherwise._

"_I'm not depressed, I would know if I was depressed. I am very well educated," he had said. The man only shot him one of those annoying pitying smiles._

"_Whatever you say, Mr. Addy," he said._

"_Doctor. It is Doctor Addy," Zach had corrected for what felt like the thousandth time but in actuality was only the seventy seventh._

"_Of course, now if you are a doctor you must know to listen to your own doctors who are medicating you."_

_If the logic hadn't been do ridiculously flawed Zach might have given him an ounce more respect than he currently did. But considering, he only felt it supported his theory that this 'Jefferson' was a pathetic excuse for a doctor._

"_As I doctor I know the harmful effects of taking unnecessary medication," he had curtly replied before leaning far back in his chair, a tactic of Booth's he had picked up that was designed to express one's completion with a conversation._

"_Very well."_

_And now he was back in his room, leaned against the wall in the corner fully immersed in Dr. Brennan's latest novel, the same way he had been immersed in it the seventeen times he had read it prior to that occasion. He heard a knock at the door. Not wanting to be disturbed, he had ignored it. There had been a moment's pause before he heard a deafening crack, he stood up and whirled around only to feel his consciousness slipping, falling away. _

And now he was here. Trapped, in a box much like a coffin. A coffin, he decided, giving the wood framework, the loose fabric lining the edges and the poorly masked maker's label to support his thesis. He wasn't dead yet, but he would be soon he supposed. He raised his arms just a tad and hit hard on one side there was an unearthly groan that he couldn't distinguish its origin. The coffin or his aching shoulder blade. Persisting slightly his trembling fingers found a dent. The wood was cheap – cracked. He could break through it. But then what? If he was underground that would only mean the small area filling up with dirt – or particulates he supposed, as Hodgins calls it.

Logically, he would die if he did nothing anyways. Given the dimensions he had two or three hour's maximum. And that stirred a memory in his subconscious mind that wound its way to the front, if one was personifying one's mind at least. Hodgins and Brennan trapped in a car underground. Twisting, his fingers found the mark on the back of his neck. The Gravedigger.

…...

"Bones, it is going to be fine," Booth said, to Brennan.

"I'm not acting alarmed, why do you feel the need to reassure me?" asked his partner, purposefully not meeting his eyes.

"Actually, the fact that you aren't acting alarmed shows more severe psychological trauma than if you were," came a voice from the backseat. Booth shot Sweets a cold look that caused the young man to lean a tad bit over to Brennan for refuge.

"Anyways," he said, "I know you are alarmed 'cause I know you Bones, and I know you care about Zach."

"It isn't logical, he doesn't deserve it," Brennan said with such coolness that Sweets wanted to jump to the intern's defense, despite knowing that these were only things said in anger or pain.

"But you do," Booth said, "And I am going to help you get through this. That is what partners do."

"What about you?" Brennan asked him.

"What about me?"

"Well, you like Dr. Addy. Why shouldn't I be consoling you? You had your whole guy thing going on."

"What guy thing?" Sweets asked.

"Doesn't matter, the point is he is – was squintern number one and I'm helping you. Okay? Okay," Booth sighed into the steering wheel.

"You were playing both myself and you in that scenario, I don't understand."

"I think you do," Sweets said, only to receive glares from both of the people in the front seat. In response this, he leaned back into the seat. When the car rolled to a stop, all three doors were slammed shut with a tad bit more force than was necessary.

…...

Cam set down her phone and looked at Angela and Hodgins. Hodgins had been staring at the video feeds of Heather Taffet's cell for the entire time since they had gotten back, and Angela was draped over his shoulders with an equally intent expression. Slamming the office phone into the receiver, Cam attempted to draw their attention.

"Okay, I called in all of our interns to help cover any and all data that we might have from the case. Angela, please get on and start trying to crack the code on the encrypted message. Hodgins, Booth and Brennan are at the crime scene as we speak, get ready to go over all their data and-" she was cut off by their stares. Sighing Cam bit her lip and glanced at the ground, "Look, we need to treat this like an ordinary case, otherwise we'll lose focus."

"But it isn't an ordinary case it's Zach," Angela broke in, "And he needs us. Who knows where he is off by himself and running out of oxygen. I can picture all the wires in that genius mind of his deciding that no one cares," she dug her fingers into her husband's shoulder blade and shot her boss a meaningful look, "What are we supposed to do?"

"We're supposed to catch the bad guy," Cam said, and with one more intense conversation with her employee's (which was composed entirely of glances) turned and left the room.

"Right, we can do this Angie," Hodgins said, sounding a lot more confident than he felt, "I will call Brennan and Booth and see what they've come up with.

…...

"This is Mr. Addy's room," the woman was saying, gesturing to an open door. There were no signs of forced entry, but the door only could lock from the outside, so there wasn't much to go on.

"Doctor," Sweets said, sounding visibly annoyed. The nurse looked at him confused, "It's Doctor Addy's room. As has been stated, many times."

The forensic anthropologist next to him nodded and turned back to the door. She could feel the cool metal beneath her plastic gloves. She stepped inside. The room was small, but much use had been squeezed from it. There was the standard bed, night-stand and wardrobe, all with the plain bleached appeal. But the walls were a different story. Stacks of books from the floor to taller than Booth all in alphabetical order stood lining the area next to the bed. Amongst them Brennan counted all of hers, several logic puzzle books, encyclopedias, and several collage level textbooks, all carefully organized. And the wall in front between the dresser and the empty corner opposing the bed was nearly wallpapered with things.

There was all of the notes, letters, and stationary that they had sent him, all in neat rows by person, and then newspaper clippings of cases, files, x-rays, and some of Angela's artwork. Booth stared at the wall and glanced around and looked at Brennan who was carefully examining the one book out of place.

"Bones, do you see all this?" he whispered.

"He really missed you guys," Sweets said, and for once Brennan didn't argue with his conclusion.

"I didn't think-" she started, but the end of the sentence fell and died in the air before it could be completed. She picked up the book carefully. It had been dropped, and the middle few pages had been wrenched askew. She might have deemed it irrelevant, but given the state of everything else in the room and her knowledge of her former intern he would never leave something out of its place.

"Where did he even get all these?" she asked, gesturing to all of the books. Sweets looked up and shrugged.

"I brought them in," he said, then noticing the intrigued look on his co-worker's faces continued. "He said he was bored and lack of intellectual substance would literally drive him mad. So I picked out some he would like based on his psychological profile."

"That was very nice of you," Booth said, almost suspiciously.

"I'm a very nice person."

"Yes," Temperance said, not entirely paying attention, "What is the significance of this being out of place?"

"You're asking for my opinion as your psychological consultant?" the doctor looked a little too excited in Booth's opinion.

"Yeah, cool it though."

"Well, it could be what he was reading before he was kidnapped?"

"Perhaps."

Temperance looked at the book again. Zach had folded down the corners of several dozen pages. She smiled a little at that, as it was one of his habits that had bothered Hodgins from day one. She could hear her colleagues arguing about whether or not page folding qualified as 'desecrating' the books. She remembered once they had gotten into such a heated dispute that the security guards came over and warned them. Then Hodgins had tried to get said security guard to come over and agree with him. Angela sometimes still made fun of him, because that tactic had ended with him having to leave work early. She ran her fingers over the edges of the book, but couldn't seem to focus on the facts. She set it down again, careful to position it in the exact same place she had found it in.

"I don't think we are going to find anything here," she sighed, "Booth?"

"No signs of forced entry, no signs of a struggle, no blood, and the security tapes show nothing," he sighed, "Want to head back to the lab?"

"Not yet," she said, "Let's question people."

"Bones, no one saw anything."

"We can at least try," she said, harsher than she meant to, "Doesn't this case deserve at least a little of our time?"

Booth nodded then turned to the nurse at the door. "Who was the last person to have seen Dr. Addy?"

She bunched her over glossed lips together and cocked her head in an expression that was a replica of a contemplating expression, but in reality showed no signs of thought. "I don't know. He meets with Dr. Jefferson on Tuesdays, so you could talk to him. He doesn't really socialize with the other patients," she shrugged.

"Of course he doesn't. Dr. Addy is a very intelligent young man, and is above the anthropological need to associate himself with others," Brennan said flatly, and then said in a slightly less cold tone, "And I would like to meet with this Dr. Jefferson."


End file.
